


Into Your Arms (and Away From the Pain)

by midnightwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Bullying, Dean Smith - Freeform, First Kiss, M/M, WIP, castiel novak - Freeform, fluff?, nerd!dean, punk!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightwrites/pseuds/midnightwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a nerdy, unconfident sophomore who incidentally runs into the Punk-rock, couldn't-give-less-of-a-fuck Castiel. When the senior asks the sophomore for help in math, the two quickly bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean Smith is fifteen years old and can count all of his friends on one hand. It doesn't bother him, though, because he'd rather have four real friends than seventy fake ones- that's just how Dean is. He says goodbye to one of those four friends, Ash, and watches the mullet-headed kid walk in the direction opposite of Dean, winking at a teacher as he goes by. Dean fixes the things in his arms before pushing up his square glasses and moving to close his locker when he's shoved, hard, from behind. Dean trips on the concrete ledge at the bottom of his locker and goes stumbling face-first into the cool metal of the inner catacombs of the locker. He sighs as he hears the door slam shut behind him and he quickly turns around to pound his fists against the locker's door.

"Morning, Dean!" a voice Dean doesn't recognize calls from the other side of the metal door. Dean groans and shouts back.

"Guys, c'mon, I have to get to class!" He hears the boys laugh and mock him as they walk away, and he kicks his foot loudly against the metal of the locker until a campus supervisor comes by to release him. He's already fifteen minutes late to class by the time he's gathered his things and runs down the hall towards his class.

When he flashes his note of release to his teacher, Mr. Singer nods and goes back to droning on about history. Dean slips into his seat next to his friend Roy and flips open to the proper page in his textbook so he can begin to follow along with the class. He's about to completely submerge himself in the subject when the classroom's door swings open, loudly slamming against the wall behind it. Dean looks from his book in time to see a tall kid shrug and drop a loud, "Whoops," before handing the teacher a pass identical to the one Dean had a few minutes ago. Mr. Singer looks at the note with a scrunched up nose and then gruffly announces to the class, "This is Castiel Novak, everyone. He just transferred, so play nice and all that." With that, Mr. Singer pointed to the seat behind Dean and began reining the class back in for the lesson. Castiel, in the mean time, sauntered up behind Dean, plopped down in his chair, and tapped Dean's shoulder. Dean swallowed thickly and cautiously turned around.

"How can I help you," he squeaked nervously. The boy- Castiel- was gorgeous, with deep blue eyes that stood out against his pale skin, which was only made to look lighter due to it's stark contrast against the boys dark brown, almost black, hair. His head was shaved on the sides but there was a thick strip that was left in the center, allowed to grow long and then styled back in a modern but punkish way. Through the bristle of his hair on the right side of his head, Dean could see a cross tattooed, and the ear on the same side was gauged to a zero, had two piercing on the lobe, and had a bar through the top of his ear. His eyebrow was pierced too, in a way that Dean never thought he would find so attractive. Castiel quirked a pierced brow and scoffed at Dean's staring.

"Do you have a pen that I might possibly borrow," he asked. Dean nearly choked on his tongue. The boy's voice was deep and gravely in all the right ways- like he'd just woken up and rolled out of bed despite the fact that it was push three in the afternoon. Dean shook himself out of his stupor and reached down to his bag to get a pen for Castiel. When he turned around to hand Castiel his pen, he accidentally blurted,

"Castiel's the angel of Thursday!" before blushing furiously, the prickling of heat making the smattering of freckles stand out against the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. Castiel only nodded, taking the pen from Dean's hand with a smile.

"He is. My mom was into new-age shit, so whatever," he said as he twirled the pen between his middle and index finger before asking, "So, what's your name? Or should I just call you loser?" Dean blushed even harder at that, fumbling for words before Castiel held up a hand to stop him and reached around to grope at Dean;s back. "Sticky-note," he said as an explanation. Dean only took the note from the kids hands and slunk back into his chair. Castiel didn't try to pry, only sank into his chair and attempted to focus on Mr. Singer.

At the end of the class, just as Dean was saying goodbye to Roy, he heard his name being called. Just as he was about to ignore the sound he felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped, dropping all of his belongings in the process. It was Castiel who'd called him and the senior bent down next to Dean and helped the sophomore pick up his belongings.

"Sorry, man, didn't mean to scare you like that," Castiel said, handing Dean his things. Dean took them in hand and waved off the apology.

"It's no big deal," he said, pushing up his glasses where they were slipping down the bridge of his nose. "I'm just not used to people coming up and talking to me." Dean shifted his feet and looked down at the dirty tiles of the school floors. Castiel watched him for a moment before asking, "Are you any good at math?" Dean gave him a puzzled look and shifted his things in his arms.

"I-I'm in precalculus," Dean said softly. Castiel gaped at him for a moment before slinging an arm around Dean, who eyed the arm around his shoulder nervously.

"Awesome. You think you could tutor me, like, tonight, because I gotta tell you, my class is barely making any sense whatsoever," Castiel said. Dean ducked under Castiel's arm and hugged his books tight to his chest.

"W-why don't you just ask s-someone in your class?" Dean stuttered. Castiel only rolled his eyes.

"Because I want someone who's actually gonna be able to teach me this crap, not just shove their notes at me. I thought I'd take a chance and ask you- looks like it was the right decision." Dean swallowed hard but nodded.

"Sure, I'll tutor you. Want to just go right now since school is over?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded.

"Yeah, sounds good. We can go to my place; it's always quiet," Castiel offered. Dean nodded his head and said, "That'd probably be best. I have a little brother that's in seventh grade and he can be pretty obnoxious at times. Let me just text my dad."

Five minutes later found Dean walking with a boy he'd only met a few hours ago towards the school's student parking lot. Castiel was talking animatedly about a new album he was trying to find on vinyl, and while Dean didn't know which album he was talking about, he listened intently. He was just about to ask for the title of the album when he heard someone shout, "Hey Smith!" from a few yards away. By the time Dean had turned around, it was too late to stop the car sponge full of milky substance from smacking him right in the face. The velocity of the full, large sponge sent him reeling back into Castiel, who sipped his arms under Dean's at the last second, preventing them both from falling over.

"Ugh! Gross!" Castiel exclaimed, propping Dean back up to his two feet before holding his own to arms out away from him to look down at the damage. The wet spot sinking into the seniors left shoulder was nothing compared to the state Dean was in. The younger boy stood a few feet away from Castiel, holding his arms wide while he tried to asses his collateral damage through the milky white film that was quickly drying on the lenses of his glasses. His olive green t-shirt was turning a dark forest green as the sponges contents saturated the front of Dean's shirt, and the sophomore's jeans were turning a dark blue as well. Dean drew in a shaky breath and fought back the tears that were threatening to spill over. "What even was in that?" Castiel exclaimed.

"Spoiled milk and that stuff you get when you let your sour cream settle for too long," Dean said. When Castiel shot him a puzzled look, he explained. "It's not the first time this has happened." Dean sighed and moved to walk away. "I guess I'll have to tutor you another time. Sorry." He turned around and began to walk away from Castiel when the older boy called out.

"Wait, no, it's fine!" When Dean turned back around, Castiel added, "Please. I have towels in my car. At least let me help you clean up."

Dean cleaned off his glasses with the back of his t-shirt, which was still dry, before Castiel handed him a worn-looking towel, swearing up and down that it was clean. Dean thanked him and ran the towel through his dirty blonde hair before he turned back to Castiel, who was leaning against the sleek, black metal of his car.

"Are you sure you still want me to tutor you today?" Dean asked nervously. "I smell like someone left the dairy isle out in the sun for too long." That earned a chuckle from Castiel.

"Yeah, Im sure. Hop in, just put the towel down first- save the upholstery and all," Castiel said before moving to the drivers side. Dean did as he was told and on the way to Castiel's house, admired the dash of the precious car.

"This car is really...cool," Dean said lamely. Castiel just laughed and nodded his head while he tapped his fingers in time with the Def Leppard song blaring through the car's speakers.

"It was my dad's, but he gave it to me when he finally got his dream Camaro," Castiel explained. Dean hummed.

"My dad has a Prius that he said he'll give me next year." Dean spared a look at Castiel out of the corner of his eye before adding, "I do not want a Prius." Castiel threw his head back in laughter and Dean was mesmerized. The way Castiel's smile was all gum and teeth and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners made Dean blush to himself. He turned to look out the window while Castiel came down from his laughing fit.

"Oh, man a freaking Prius. That's classic. Oh Lord," he breathed, trailing off as he killed the engine of the car. Dean looked out the windshield and gaped at the sight in front of him. 

The house before him was huge, and Dean would be surprised if it had any less than seven rooms and three full bathrooms. "Home crappy home," Castiel said as he stepped out of the car. Dean's eyebrows shot up his forehead as he scrambled out of the car after Castiel.

"Crappy? I mean I don't live in the ghetto, but this house is way nicer than mine," Dean admired. Castiel looked over his shoulder at Dean as he unlocked the door and smiled.

"Oh no, the house itself is magnificent, but it ain't a home. No one's ever here, and that's no home." Castiel pushed the large wooden door in and stepped into the foyer, turning left and heading up the steps to the second story landing. "It's really not that great, Dean, c'mon," Castiel said, waving Dean up to the second floor. Dean toed off his shoes and followed Castiel up the stairs. By the time he'd hit the landing, Dean could hear classic rock rolling out of one of the rooms. He stepped ilghtly towards the sound and saw Castiel standing just passed the doorway, holding a pile of clothing.

"I thought you might want to shower and change, so here's a change of clothes- the bathroom is right across the way," Castiel informed, pointing over Dean's shoulder at the bathroom across the hallway. "Knock yourself out, I guess." He handed the clothes off to Dean and just as the younger boy was turning around, Cas called, "Wait!" Dean turned back around with a questioning look on his face. "The towels are under the sink," Castiel said.

"Thank you, Castiel," Dean said with a smile. He moved to the bathroom and shut and locked the door behind himself before peeling off his stiffening, putrid clothes. He dropped them to the floor with disgust and was happy to be freed of their confines. He could feel the spoiled milk settling in his hair and he leaned down to start the water in the tub. He couldn't wait to step under the spray of the warm water. Dean pulled the lever on the bath spout to turn the shower head on and stepped into the tub. The warm water on his shoulders felt amazing and he wasted no time washing his body of the foul-smelling odor that was sticking to his skin. With the combination of hot water and Castiel's shampoo, Dean exited the shower feeling a lot better than he had a few minutes prior.

He dried himself off with a plush, clean towel and then pulled on the grass-green shirt, forest green boxers, and just-too-big blue jeans that Castiel had given him to wear. When he was fully changed he ran a hand through his hair and then bent down to wrap his dirty clothes in the towel before walking back to Castiel's room. The song had changed and he followed the sound to Castiel's room, where the senior had kicked off his shoes and socks and was digging through a few of his drawers before pulling out an unmarked pill bottle. Dean stepped into Castiel's room and Cas took notice before smiling sheepishly at Dean. 

"It's uh, medication?" he said unconvincingly. He gave Dean a wink before swallowing down three of the pills without water.

"Right," Dean said before taking a seat on the floor, his back resting up against Castiel's bed. "So, pre-cal," Dean asked. Castiel joined him on the floor and they both set off to work.

It was when Dean was reaching over to point out a flaw in a formula on Castiel's paper that he hissed in pain and gripped his side. Castiel immediately looked up in concern.

"You all right?" he asked cautiously. Dean nodded his head.

"Yeah, Im'm fine, I just... I think i tweaked something when these guys shoved me in my locker earlier. It's no big deal," Dean assured. When he looked up at Castiel, the boy was looking at Dean with something akin to pity and Dean averted his eyes. When he felt a warm hand where he was gripping his throbbing side, he looked back up.

"Those guys, all of them, are assholes and cowards," Castiel said softly. Dean nodded his head and closed his eyes, which promptly shot open in surprise when he felt warm lips against his own. He pulled back a bit and broke the kiss, searching Castiel's face. Castiel opened his eyes and quirked a pierced eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, I thought you... I just thought-"

Dean cut him off with a high pitched whine and sealed his lips back to Castiel's dropping his hand from his side to his lap so that he could feel Castiel's warm palm against his side. Castiel's hand touched the fabric of Dean's borrowed t-shirt and immediately began rubbing soothing circles into the skin there with his thumb. He pushed forward slightly and swept his tongue against Dean's soft lips. He felt the younger boy smile before giving in, opening his mouth for Castiel's explorative tongue.

They sat there for a few minutes, lazily making out in a tangle of limbs and tongues before Casteil pulled away, panting in a feeble attempt to catch his breath. Dean went about straightening up his glasses before licking his lips, chasing the last tastes of Castiel.

"I want to get to know you, Dean Smith," Castiel said softly. Dean looked up, shocked and them smiled.

"I'd like that. I really would."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas get to know each other a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of a set up for the next one that I hope to have up rather soon.

Dean had looked forward to seeing Castiel. After being dropped off at home after their study session with nothing more than a few hickeys and a wide smile, he didn’t know what to expect. He wasn’t sure if this was the point that people usually made themselves somewhat official, or if it was just a high school fling that always happened in those chick-flick movies Sam always watched early in the morning when he thought everyone else was asleep. Either way, what Dean was not expecting, was for Castiel to saunter up to him in the middle of the hallways and plant a firm kiss to the back of his neck during the passing period for their history class.

  
After jumping in the air and hitting the back of his head against the top of his locker with a very manly squeak, Dean turned around and smiled weakly at Cas. He rubbed at the spot at the back of his head that was quickly growing sore and smiled.

“Whoa, sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you, there,” Castiel said with a light chuckle. Dean shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“I-it’s no big deal, really. Im just not used to being, uh, kissed in the middle of the hallway,” Dean stuttered. “Or talked to, for that matter,” he added under his breath. “Besides, I have about four friends, so being in contact with anyone in the middle of the halls isn’t exactly something I get too often,” Dean said. He went back to putting his things in his locker while Cas leaned against the locker next to Dean, watching the underclassman swap out one thick textbook for another.

“You down to help me study again after school?” Castiel asked. He popped his gum loudly and raised a pierced eyebrow. The hand that Dean was using to transfer a book to his bag slowed before he looked up at Cas.

“I, uh, would be, but,” He jammed the book into his over-stuffed backpack, “I have to watch my little brother. My dad’s gonna be gone tonight- bingo or something- so…” Dean shrugged and slammed his locker shut.  
Castiel had opened his mouth and was about to reply when he was interrupted by two loud jocks that rounded the corner. Dean saw them coming towards him and turned, putting his back at them in the hopes that they wouldn’t notice him and would walk by. Unfortunately, the two boys’ agenda for being on that floor of the school was simply to find and bother Dean. As they walked past, one of them knocked Dean into his locker while the other grabbed Dean’s backpack out of his hands and slid it across the floor.

Dean hit the metal behind him with a grunt and lost his balance while trying to hold onto his backpack. Castiel watched in disgusted awe as the boys chucked the underclassman’s backpack down the hall and continued down the corridor, high fiving as the went. While Dean was fixing his glasses and picking himself up off of the floor, Cas jogged across the hall and picked up the sophomore’s backpack.

“Seriously,” he said once he’d returned to Dean, who was now on his feet. He handed Dean his bag back and the younger boy took it with a bowed head. “You let those assholes treat you like that?” If Dean weren’t so shaken up, he would have thought it was anger that he was hearing in Castiel’s voice. But he must be misinterpreting the tone of his new friend’s voice.

“L-look, it’s not that big of a deal. They don’t…they cant do anything that’s too bad or they’d get into trouble.” Dean wiped his sweating hands on his jeans and slung his bag onto his shoulders. “It’s just harmless hazing.”

Castiel scoffed. “Yeah, say that to your bruised side.” Castiel paused. “How is your side, by the way?” He snapped his gum again and started walking towards their shared class. Dean shrugged, and Castiel decided to himself that it must be one of the kid’s favorite gestures.

“It’s okay, I guess. Ive had worse, so I can’t really complain.” Castiel nodded his head back and forth and held the door to Mr. Singer’s class open for Dean.  
The boys headed to the back of their class and slipped into their desks. Dean turned around and rested an elbow on Cas’s desk.  
“I… I can call my dad during lunch and see if it’s okay if you come over for studying- i-if you want, that is,” Dean said. He pressed his glasses back up his face and blinked a few times, trying to gauge Castiel’s reaction. The punk nodded his head and smirked.

“Sounds good to me. S’long as it works for your pops and your little bro,” Cas said. The bell rang as Castiel finished his sentence and Dean turned back around so he could focus on the lesson, but instead found his mind drifting. What would Sam say? Would his little brother judge him for bringing over a boy? Or would the eighth grader even realize that Dean and Cas were… what exactly were they again?

Dean was trying to put a label on his and Castiel’s rapidly moving relationship when he heard his name being called. Castiel nudged him with the back of his pen and when Dean turned around, the senior gestured to the front of the class.

“Well, Smith? Are you gonna answer or are you just gonna keep staring out the window?” Mr. Singer asked gruffly. Dean’s mouth fell open and he gaped for the answer before he was finally able to squeak out a response.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Singer. Could- would you repeat the question, please?” Dean stammered. Mr. Singer rolled his eyes but did repeat the question.  
“The Spanish Armada was defeated in 1588,” Dean answered quickly. Mr. Singer nodded and went back to teaching and Dean sunk as low in his chair as he possibly could without slipping out of it and falling to the floor.

Dean had closed his eyes and was counting back from ten to stave off a panic attack when he heard the junior next to him shift. Then, Dean heard the kids voice directed at him. “Way to go, freak.”

The fact that Dean didn’t even know the kid and hadn’t said a word to him in the half semester they’d been there made Dean’s stomach sink. From behind him, Dean heard a pencil snap in half.

 

 

Dean wanted out of that class as quickly as possible, so when the bell rang, he swiped all of his things off his desk and bolted out of the door as fast as he could manage, not bothering to wait for Castiel.

Luckily for Dean, it was lunch, so instead of having to worry about running into anyone that might haze him at his locker, he was able to make a bee-line for the outdoor commons and sit himself at his groups table. Within five minutes, Roy, Ash, Garth, and Charlie were all seated at the table, chatting loudly. Charlie had gotten Ash invested in a very serious discussion over whether or not Han Solo had, in fact, shot first when Roy turned his attention to Dean.

“So who was at your locker this morning, Dean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Dean’s school-distributed milk carton stopped halfway to his mouth. He lowered it gently to the tabletop and looked at his lap.

“It was, uh- he’s no one. Just a-a friend- his name’s Castiel. He’s new here,” Dean said. Roy was nice, but Dean kind of felt like he was a little sadistic. He tended to like to watch people squirm- even if those people were his friends.

“You talked to that new kid?” Charlie asked, the conversation about Han Solo completely abandoned. Dean shrugged and looked at Charlie out of the corner of his eye. “Uh, yeah. He-he’s pretty cool, actually,” Dean said, a bit firmer this time.

“Cool enough to give Dean a hickey, apparently,” Ash chuckled. Dean grew pale and slapped a hand to his neck. Ash only laughed.

“It’s cool, man,” Garth said, slinging an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “Aint nobody here gonna judge you for being happy with someone. Relax.” Dean felt the tension seep out of his shoulders and after a few more teasing-free minutes, he realized that despite how many people would shove him around in the halls, his friends would always be there to support him.

 

 

Dean found Castiel waiting by his car after school. He held up his phone and waved it, and once he reached Cas’s side, he spoke.

“So my dad said it was fine that you came over, as long as I don’t ignore and neglect Sam,” Dean said, smiling.  
Castiel swung the ring of his keys around his fingers once before nodding his head in the direction of the passenger side. “Hop on in and tell me where we’re going,” Cas said.

Dean gave Castiel the directions to his home, and on the way there, Castiel turned the music down and cleared his throat.

“Look, I know it’s not really my place, or any of my business, but you sure do take a lot of shit from a lot of people at that school,” Cas said. He turned his head to look at Dean and one of his piercings caught and reflected sunlight onto the roof of the punk’s car.

Dean fiddled with the hem of his shirt and looked at his feet that rested in the foot well of the Impala. “I don’t know, it’s not that hard to get used to. If I keep my head down I might actually have a chance at surviving high school.”

“That’s complete bullshit,” Castiel said. He rolled the steering wheel with the heel of his hand and turned onto Dean’s street. “You know, if you stood up for yourself, you wouldn’t have to worry about surviving,” Castiel scanned the neighborhood and Dean pointed out his house, “you can actually live- enjoy your high school experience.” Dean scoffed and shook his head.

“Cas, I told you this before all ready and I’ll say it again- those guys would crush me in a minute.” Dean pushed his glasses up just for them to fall down his freckled nose again. “There’s honestly no point.”

Castiel sighed but let it go, and pulled into Dean’s driveway. Dean opened his door, grabbed his backpack from the foot well, and rummaged around for his house key while walking toward his door.

Dean, unlike Castiel, lived in a modest one-story house in the middle of his block. It boasted a red door that stood out against the grey, peeling paint. The three cement steps that led up to the door were weather worn and chipped, providing close to no grip for anyone who walked the path. Dean had almost broken his arms running up those steps on a rainy day. Sam just laughed.

The sophomore unlocked his door and stood to the side so Castiel could walk in after him. The older boy’s thick-soled boots clomped loudly on wooden hallway that took the two boys towards Dean’s room. When they pushed passed the door to his bedroom, Dean sighed and kicked off his shoes, putting them in line at the foot of the bed with the rest of the teenager’s footwear. Castiel chuckled.

“You would have a overly-tidy room- complete with a desk and everything,” Cas said. He walked over to Dean and wrapped his arms around the younger boy’s waist. Dean let out a soft yelp and peeked at Castiel over his shoulder.

“A place for everything and everything in it’s place,” Dean recited. He looked around his room and noticed how it differed from Castiel’s. There were no posters on his white walls and instead of clothes strewn across his desk, there were neat piles of books and schoolwork and a small tank that held a Beta fish. His name was Cobalt.

“My brother should be getting home right about-“ Dean was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming and the stomping of feet down the hall. A few seconds later his door was thrown open and a shorter boy stood in the doorway.

“Hey Dean I’m-“ Sam cut himself off as he watched his brother and some stranger flail apart. Dean made some unintelligible sound at the back of his throat and knocked his own glasses astray.

“Sam! What have I told you about knocking?” Dean said, adjusting his glasses back to their proper place on the bridge of his nose. Sam ignored the question.

“Who’s this?” he asked, looking Cas up and down.

“This is Castiel. He’s my-“

“I’m your brother’s boyfriend,” Cas said, folding his arms across his chest and quirking his eyebrow. Sam paused for a moment, looking back and forth between Dean and Castiel.

“Cool. I like your piercings,” Sam said, before turning and walking out of Dean’s room. Cas walked over to the door and shut it behind Sam. He turned around to find Dean with a puzzled look on his face.

“What?” Cas asked defensively.

“N-Nothing,” Dean said, physically shaking himself from his semi-catatonic phase. “It’s just… I never knew you wanted to be my boyfriend. I mean, we kiss and stuff but…” he trailed off and ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Uh… never mind.”

Castiel strode over to where Dean was standing and pulled the blonde-headed kid close to him, pressing a firm kiss to his lips and then trailing a few more kisses down his neck. Dean whimpered at the back of his throat and let his eyes fall closed and his head fall back.

“You’re different, Smith. I like you,” Castiel said between kisses. Dean groaned and nodded back quickly.

“I-I like you, too,” he replied honestly. Cas smiled against Dean’s neck and left a few more kisses before pulling back.

“So it’s settled then. We’re dating?”

Dean pushed his slipping glasses up his nose. “Sure. Yeah, we’re dating.”

Castiel smiled and nodded his head.

“Good. Anyway, we better get started on this homework because I have no idea what is going on in this class and we have a test on Thursday,” Cas said, plopping down on Dean’s bed. Dean rolled his eyes, un-tucked his shirt, and began explaining that night’s homework to Castiel- step by step.

For the first time in a very long time, Dean wasn’t afraid to go back to school. Not when he knew that Castiel would be by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> thinking about continuing with this. thoughts? ideas of where to go from here? feedback is awesome and welcome!


End file.
